Circumstance
by WinchesterNimrod
Summary: Cedric wakes up. That was only the beginning of the problem. [Time-Loop/Fix It/Travel fic]
1. One

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Harry Potter'_

_This story is Not: Evil Dumbledore, character bashing or slash (still with Cho at the moment but that will change)_

_This story Is: a kid reliving an unimaginable event at an important time of his life and turning into something unrecognisable by the end of it._

.

Cedric wakes up.

Now, that was a problem.

The Avada Kedavra curse doesn't promise a prolonged healthy life. In fact, it bares the exact opposite in the most depressing way death can politely manage.

His dorm mates startle awake to an unhappy morning filled with Cedric's screams of horror.

.

Like any other traumatized teenager, Cedric takes refuge amongst baked goods in the kitchen. A comfort fitting for a Hufflepuff and one that was sorely missed out by other houses.

Dressed in nothing but yellow checked pyjamas and an oversized fluffy nightgown, Cedric shivers from the cold. Bare toes twitching near the crackling fire kind house elves snapped to life for him.

Curled up in a wooden chair, he stares blankly at the popping embers of wood. Looking more ghoulish than human.

Despite the brimming redness in his cheeks, Cedric still felt cold.

Dead.

_"Kill the spare." _

Some wood bursts, tiny red fragments exploding and Cedric flinches at the flash of phantom green.

"You're imagining things," he whispers to himself. "He – "

He, _who_?

A pudgy rat-faced man killed him because a headless voice told him to. It was absolute bonkers and…

_horrific_.

To die so quickly and without even realising what was happening until the green was a touch from his chest…

As much as he thought about what happened a mere twenty minutes ago, Cedric couldn't understand. The Cup had obviously been rigged, the entire set up was organised in a way so only Harry would get there. Cedric was a 'spare'. They, whoever they were, wanted Harry.

Another chill.

Only one group of people could simultaneously kill without thought and want his friend.

Death Eaters.

And he was nothing but a victim of circumstance.

A statistic of brewing war.

Harry…the kid had watched him die.

Goosebumps skitter across his arms and neck. Tingling and forcing another tremble to rack his body like a wet leaf. Cedric was too petrified to notice that he was crying until a House Elf handed him a tissue and asked whether she should get his Head of House.

"I'd like to stay alone a bit longer, thanks."

"If that's what Mister Diggory wants."

"Diggery does."

So he's handed a cup of hot cinnamon chocolate.

Of which he promptly takes generous sips.

If he hadn't just perished and woken up ten hours beforehand (a random first year wishing him luck on his mad dash out was a real head spinner) he wouldn't have indulged. Maintaining weight for Quidditch was a must. It was one of his career options.

Right now career options could suck Lucius Malfoy's Royal arse for all he cared.

Just as he's consuming a second serving of delicious hot choc, a small head connected to an equally round little bod squeezes itself behind the picture frame.

It's Neville Longbottom, and Cedric's ashamed to say he only knows about the boy due to his unforgiving family name and the tortured history that came with it.

"Mister Longbottom!" one of the working House Elves scatted about the ancient kitchen exclaims. Squeaky voice tinged with long-lived affection.

Cedric tries to make himself as obscure as possible in his chair, but it's pathetic.

Only a couple meek steps in, Neville spots him and is visibly shocked to stone. The warm expression on the kid's face twists into something distressingly uncertain.

"S-Sorry I didn't know anyone else was in here…_Cedric Diggory_."

He's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that hiss of disbelief. As though the kid had stumbled upon Viktor Krum doing push-ups naked and not Cedric still in his PJ's looking like he's contemplating a tea read from Professor Trelawney.

Cedric raises a shuddering hand to stop Neville's decent backwards. "Don't leave. Just ignore me, please."

Neville bites his lip and nods compliantly.

Cedric goes back to staring at the slithering flames and ignoring what…_happened_.

"Dippy missed, Mister Longbottom yesterday!"

"I know, sorry. I stayed in the library for some quick extra credit on Herbology…."

"It's not good to skip meals, Mister Longbottom."

"…Sorry."

For some reason he couldn't stop himself from being hyper aware of Neville's presence as the kid took a seat at the kitchen table, served an English brekky compiled with; toast, sausages, pan fried bacon with sunny side eggs and enjoying conversation with Elves.

No matter how much he tried to stare at the flames, awareness of Neville did not cease. Almost like he expected the harmless kid to turn around and attack.

He doesn't get to concern himself over this long, because Professor Sprout swoops inside. Extreme breathlessness taking control of her words.

"Mr Diggory, there you are!" The ageing squished woman startles at catching sight of him in the firelight. "Why you look absolutely dreadful."

Despite himself, Cedric manages a half-smile.

"Poor boy, you must have not been able to catch a wink of sleep because of nerves. I heard you gave your friends a terrible fright this morning. Ran out of the common room like a pack of vampires were after you, I heard." She nods to herself, convinced Cedric's appearance was from lack of sleep instead lack of life.

He doesn't blame her. It isn't an everyday conclusion to come to.

"Well, lets get you sorted. Quick trip to Madam Pompfrey and a pick me up potion ought to sort you out. Your parents are here along with the rest of the Champions."

Just then, Cedric is forced to acknowledge the Triwizard Tournament. An awash of terror looms over him like a werewolf on a full moon. Wet saliva slipping down its jaws and dripping onto his face.

"Professor," Cedric resolves himself. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore."

And the woman just stops, frown creasing her eyebrows. "Is something the matter, dear?"

He can't help the nervous chuckle that escapes him, "You could say that."

.

Cedric has never seen Dumbledore so silent before.

"I see," the man says. Eyes like blue steel and looking past Cedric's shoulder in thought. "Ah."

"Um, Sir…" Cedric keeps himself from fiddling. "You believe me?"

"If my age has not yet made me senile, I trust my choice of character. And as such, I find that you my boy, are not the sort to make such disturbing jokes."

"I'm not," Cedric rushes to confirm. A pause of breath he sighs. Simultaneously tense and lax in his seat across the old wizard. "I'm not."

"This is most worrisome."

_Doesn't even begin to describe it_, Cedric looks down at his hands clenching his dressing gown sleeves.

Still cold.

"What's most, I find, is my inability to act upon it."

"What," Cedric stares. Cold as the moment he died. "That's shit!"

Dumbledore's face was set.

Showing he agreed, but nerveless did not appreciate his questioning.

"Let's review what could happen, Mr Diggory. Right now this is mere speculation upon your part."

"I _died_."

"And yet here you stand," Dumbledore gestured filially. "Time travel without an authorized Time Turner is impossible. As is dying and coming back to life without a magical scar like Mr Potter, mere hours before the incident. There is no proof of your claims. Certainly you can provide a memory, but that is not certain. Memories can be edited, subjective and entirely unreliable. Veritaserum yields similar results. Truth is a tricky thing as everyone has their unique version of events. What you speculate to be true now could turn out to be a simple case of wild imagination."

Cedric wanted to yell. "I'm not lying, sir."

"My dear boy," Dumbledore's hardness edges away. "I believe you, and I wished I didn't. The man you described murder you is Peter Pettigrew." If he saw the way Cedric flinched, he didn't show it. "Last year he was proven to be in league with Voldemort."

He pales at the name. "But he – "

" - is showing signs of returning. Death Eater appearances are growing in England, as you yourself witnessed last September. By your own words, his most loyal follower kidnapped Mr Potter for nefarious intentions. Going so far as to infiltrate Hogwarts' grounds and alter the Cup's Portkey. Vodlemort is involved, and I fear tonight he shall return."

On Dumbledore's desk, Cedric finds himself transfixed on a gold twirling object. Numbing himself to the ravaging fear curled around his heart like thorns. In the candlelight reflecting off metal, he saw acid green.

_I don't want to be here._

"The Ministry is afraid of the truth and they will never believe the word of a child."

_No_. "You can't stop the Tournament?"

Dumbledore frowns at Cedric's manic look. "Why would I do that?"

A preposterous surge of weary anger curdles his eyes. "Because Harry will_ die _if we don't. _Like me_." he hisses.

Dumbledore is politely calm. "We know Voldemort's plan, therefore we know how to corner him while he's still weak. Harry will be perfectly safe. The faculty is stronger than many believe. Professor Snape and Moody will follow you to the cup and make sure Mr Potter will get tangled in some vines."

"Follow me?"

"Certainly. Per rules, the Cup can only be activated by champions. We cannot risk Mr Potter's life."

"What about mine?" Cedric stares, a _need_ for reassurance in his eyes.

"There are no other alternatives."

The rigid response blows into Cedric's ribs like a stunner. His bloodshot eyes meet Dumbledore's regretful blue ones.

"I am so very sorry."

.

Thoughts and helpful criticism is most welcomed :D


	2. Two

I hope you all enjoy :D

.

By the time he reunites with his parents, Cedric's palms are bleeding from where he'd dug his fingernails in. Kept inside school pockets, he tries to not stare too long at their faces in case he got any ideas about betraying Dumbledore and telling them everything.

_"We've only got one shot at this, my boy. One shot to avert a war." _

A hatch of unnerving stillness clamps over his emotions like before a big Quidditch match.

"You'll do alright out there, Ced," his father thumps his shoulder. "No need to worry. You've always been a survivor, ever since a little boy and climbing those darn trees of yours. Given your mother and I quite a fair bit of scares you have, so you better come out spotless tonight."

It was useless.

Too much.

Too much to think about.

Cedric focuses on his breathing, the expanding of his rib cage and sensation of air flowing in and out of his lungs.

He contains a flinch when his mother palms his forehead in slight concern.

"Bit clammy. Are you feeling alright, dear? Not getting sick are you?"

"Nonsense," his father hoops an arm around Cedric and yanks him tight against him. "He's just a bit tense, aren't you son?"

Cedric nods quickly, listening in on Mrs Weasley's loud pampering of Harry across the chamber and sounds of deep Bulgarian mixed with elegant French.

"If you're sure," his mother frowns. Delicate hand retreating and he fights the desperate urge to reach out and take it. "Remember, you can always quit early if you're not feeling too well. No amount of prize money is worth damaging your health, dear."

_"You need to act like before. Everything up until the Third Trial must stay the same so there will be no surprises. Diverging from the past could dissolve the future into chaos unless we contain it._"

A mere two hours ago, Cedric revered Dumbledore for his gentle wisdom and capacity for boundless power. The man was an amazing strategist. A true genius of both academia and Defence Against the Dark Arts. He could stop a crowd with his mere presence. Inflict fear into enemies and always had greater intentions than everybody in the room. He was a good man.

Cedric couldn't have ever imagined that he would loose all admiration for his old Hero when it was him being a pawn in the man's 'greater intentions'.

.

Cedric spends the afternoon tethered to the past. Following what little he could of the previous Todays' echoes of lost conversation and footprints.

Walking along the empty grounds, watching and listening to his father and mother talk nonsense of their years at Hogwarts, Cedric by all means isn't calm. But if he tried hard enough to not think about _it_ – then he could breathe without struggle.

All too soon it's Lunch and he's forced to re-introduce Cho.

She pulls him aside just as his father engages his friends in a dramatic speech about how capable Cedric is and that they're lucky to have him as Champion. He's almost thankful to not relive the embarrassment when he realises that _this did not happen._

"Ah, Cho," Cedric lets go of her hand as they're in the hallway. Getting a bad feeling about this. "I don't…I think we shouldn't leave so sudden…" Her small hand cups his cheek and she has to stand on her tippy toes to kiss him. It was a small peck, but has Cedric leaning into it. Desperate.

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to do this again.

She makes a tiny sound of surprise and ends it by stepping back, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

Slight concern in her smile, Cho giggles. "Are you doing alright there, Cedric?"

Lying was never a thing between them, and Cedric dearly wants to keep it that way.

"Just tense about the Tournament is all," he bends low to peck her forehead. Hand running down soft black hair and twirling a bit between his fingers. She leans back again, staring up at him bemusedly.

Distantly, he could hear Dumbledore scold him about timelines and how the fate of the world rested in his hands not his pants, but realistically what could a small snog with Cho possibly change?

"Sounds like you're skating on the thin line of truth," her palm slides down to wrap around him in a hug. Head tilted awkwardly to keep sight of him.

As though if she looked away he would disappear.

Cedric could still see her tense excitement from the stands. Cheeks painted in mini Hufflepuff flags and waving a banner with his name and tacky bubbling love hearts painted onto it.

He had waved, turned, dashed into the maze.

And died.

Cedric clutches Cho against him so close that the top of Chos's head quickly becomes damp with his breath.

_Please_, he pleads to the universe.

"Cedric? Ced, what's wrong? You're worrying me."

_Please_.

_I don't want to die. _

"Nothing," he attempts a chuckle but it come out as a quivering breath instead. "I'm just _really_ worried, Cho. What if it doesn't go the way I want it to?"

For a long moment, Cho is silent. "Then you get back up and continue on with your life."

Cedric doesn't understand those words, because she didn't understand his.

"Sounds simple."

Some late students walk past them into the Hall with curious glances. Reminding him he shouldn't be gone _too_ long. Cedrics' fists find themselves in his pockets once again.

Cho steps away, bemusement now complete concern.

"Whatever you think's going to happen, it won't," she assures. "Mad Eye Moody himself is keeping watch over everything. You'll be safe. Well, safe as you can be at least." Her half-smile forces him to make one back.

It comes out wrong.

"I suppose you're right, the teachers will be there."

"I…guess?" Cho cocks her head. "Since it's the last trial I suppose some will supervise if it involves charms and creatures? But why would they keep watch with an Auror?"

Cedric internally curses at her brewing curiosity. "Just a thought, is all."

"No," Cho says in a low tone. "You said it with absolute certainty. Why would the staff be keeping eye over you. Is the last task _that_ dangerous. So dangerous that you would actually doubt yourself and stare at me as though you're going to…"

Cho really is an amazing Ravenclaw.

Cedric looks at her fondly. Hand warm on top of her head. "Don't worry," he reassures, feeling the tiniest bit stronger now that he's said it to her. "I'll get back to you safely."

_Whatever it takes, _he promises.

Cho scowls, "You better. Or I'll kill you."

Surprising himself, Cedric actually laughs.

.

Harry falls into step besides him with Fleur and Krum as they make their way down the stone steps towards the Quidditch pitch. Which, since sometime this month had been growing itself a gigantic, thick maze.

Nobody spoke, apart from the short one-sided conversation between Bagman and Harry.

In what felt like a second Cedric finds himself back in the past. Standing in front of a twenty-foot tall hedge and staring into an obscure opening. Behind him the entirety of Hogwarts is screaming and shouting behind him, silenced only by Bagman's voice. Besides him the other Champions were giving waves and anxious smiles to their friends and family.

Cedric doesn't bother.

"That's strange," Harry whispers to him. "Professor Dumbledore isn't here."

That's because he's at the Cup waiting for him.

"Odd," Cedric chooses to agree.

"So…" Bagman's voice ruptures his eardrums. Cedric curses, silent or aloud he isn't sure and readies his stance. "On my whistle, Harry and Cedric! Three – two – one -"

He blows.

Quick as a spell, the two burst towards the mazes' opening.

Rounding onto a path, he strangely realises that this time he's in front. Foregoing any pleasantries last spoken, Cedric casts a _Lumos_ and pulls out a small sheet of parchment from his pocket.

It was a fine-lined overhead shot of the maze, dotted red line of ink blotching in the direction towards the Cup. A separate dot of Yellow was him while bubbling purple were creatures. Dumbledore had handed it to him in nothing but a simply spoken two worded spell. For the man's gentle cruelty, Cedric can't deny the grudging awe he felt to be in his presence.

Following the line, Cedric watches in crushing dread as it got shorter and shorter. The creatures and plants he comes across don't attack, merely ignore him. Likely out of orders.

What felt like hours but must be minutes, Cedric hears a glass-shattering scream then silence. It makes him stop, twisting around and ducking.

Red glows past.

Funny how he almost forgot being tortured.

"Ha!" Cedric laughs, which shows just how drugged up on adrenaline he was. "You _thought_ – "

"_Crucio crucio crucio crucio_" Viktor advances towards him in a mad ramble. Milk eyes wide with vicious glee against flickering crimson.

Cedric hisses, curse after curse forcing him to cancel his Lumos in sheer panic and adopt his Quidditch skills.

Darkness swallows air and he's forced to duck again. Red zooming over like a manic firefly.

Apparently, Bulgarians fight old school.

Viktor leaps at him.

It's low, shoulder impacting just above the hipbone and Cedric's on the ground before he's able to cry out any obscenities. Wand skittering away, Cedric goes to shove the bloke off when a hand out of darkness grips his throat and forcing him back down.

His hand squeezes.

Viktor's choking him.

In a blind moment of panic, Cedric lies there complicit before realising his airway was _literally_ being crushed to nothing.

Cho's face pops into mind and Cedric growls.

Fist undercutting against a jaw, Viktor's grip slips. Allowing Cedric space to jam an elbow into his sternum hard enough to leave Viktor gasping and time to shove him off.

In haste, his hands rummage blindly across the grass for his wand. Brushing against the hedge, he hears vines curls inwards. Charmed to not attack him.

_…Oh?_

A muscular body slams against his back and tips him forwards.

Using the unexpected momentum, Cedric awkwardly summersaults and sends Viktor careening into the hedge.

For a long moment, Cedric just sits in the darkness listening to Viktor strain and grunt against the relentless vines.

"I hate this," he mutters, taking a breath and committing the next three minutes to palming the ground in search for his wand and map.

.

His throat is starting to bruise ugly both inside and out by the time he's at the Sphinx. The catlike creature steps aside, tail flicking him upside head as though annoyed. Similarly, the giant spider snaps its pincers. Venom almost spitting him in the eye.

Finally, the gleaming Triwizard Cup resting on a stone platform comes into view. Along with Dumbledore and a group of mismatched people, some were faculty members – Professor Flitwick and..._Snape_? – while others were just unassuming and new.

"Um…" his slightly shaken gaze sweeps across them before resting on Dumbledore. "Sir?"

"You looked to have had some difficulty getting here, Mr Diggory," Dumbledore doesn't take the opening to explain. Which probably meant whatever he's seeing is 'confidential'. "Did the map prove itself troublesome?"

"Oh no," he breezes. "Just imperio'd Krum again."

Flitwick makes a distressed sound.

"I see," Dumbledore accepts the easy dismissal. "How long ago did this occur?"

"Ten or so minutes ago," Cedric runs a hand through his hair. "Didn't really count, sorry."

"Then the rat has moved," a dark, elegantly robed man says. "He's finished whatever business he had here. We should leave now before he gets suspicious."

"Or fetches Mr Potter himself," Mad Eye startles Cedric who hadn't even noticed the man was behind him.

"Indeed," Dumbledore nods and gestures Cedric forwards.

Sensing hesitation, the robed man gives him an encouraging look. "The moment we are portkeyed there, one of us will apparate you back to Hogwarts. As an Auror, I give you my word I will do everything in my power to make sure you get back to your family safe."

Maybe it was just the adrenaline wearing off, but Cedric chooses to believe him.

In two quick strides he along with seven others are crowded around the portkey.

"Ready?" he checks.

At Dumbledore's nod of confirmation, he takes a studying breath.

_I'll see you soon, Cho_.

He clasps the Cup just in time to see Mad Eye 'accio' something dark and red towards them.

Someone gasps, "Is that – "

And suddenly they're all jerked up by the navel from an invisible meat hook and sucked away.

Hogwarts disappears.

.


	3. Three

Cedric lands in the cemetery to someone shoving him down on wet earth. Pain flashes up his elbows, head tilted just enough catch sight of a familiar green stream shoot across where he once stood.

The air turns bright with toxic glow of curses.

"They knew!" the robed man's voice shakes Cedric's shock out of him. "Mad Eye's been compromised!"

A dark figure slip into view and he glances over to see Snape of all people positioned over him. Phantom shield bright and loudly thudding against curses.

The man hauls him up roughly by the elbow, snapping, "Move you silly boy!"

Reflexively, Cedric does as told.

Dashing across the cemetery and flinging himself behind a large angel bodied headstone for cover from the concealed attackers. A spell he doesn't recognize blasts the angel's wing off closest to him. Cedric tries not to think that could have been him.

Back pressed against stone, Cedric madly runs over what he could have changed for things to end this way.

_"Mad Eye's been compromised." _

_Dumbledore trusted the wrong person._

"Shit," he mutters, risking a peek to the battlefield and scans his first sight of Death Eaters.

They were every bit as terrifying his parents made them out to be.

Garbed in heavy dark robes and disturbingly accurate skull masks, about a dozen of them surround Dumbledore and his people. Shouting remarks that make his insides curdle.

A woman who had stood next to him is hit. She doubles over, eyes wide in knowing horror.

Every part of herself drenches in fire like a lit matchstick.

Cedric looks away, squeezing his wand and listens to her piercing screams draw out.

_Useless_.

This must have snapped something inside Dumbeldore because suddenly the cemetery is struck with a curtain of vicious fire. Burnt earth stings Cedric's nostrils and he squishes himself into a tight ball as flames roar past the headstone. Painfully heating his back and sides.

The woman's scream is met by a half a dozen more and furious shouts.

Through watering eyes Cedric notices meters beyond him Mad Eye hobbling towards a small tomb dragging something red and black behind him. The picture takes a second to make sense in his mind and without much thought; he's already carrying himself past the range of fire. Feet pedalling across damp earth frantically towards Harry.

"_Stupefy!_"

Mad Eye whirls, casually knocking his spell away and muttering something explicit.

Cedric dodges return fire, recalling past DADA lessons and shouts "_Epelliarmus_!"

The blue light hits a shield and realising he's only a few feet away, Cedric takes the Belgium tactic.

He dives under the shield and slams into the bewildered man's legs. Nocking gravity right out under him.

It's a lot more painful than Krum made it out to be but it does the job and he quickly snatches Mad Eye's wand. Tossing it aside and stunning him.

Cedric drags himself to his feet, utterly breathless and staggers over to Harry crumpled near the tomb's pillar.

A nasty gash on his hairline had bled out over half his face and Cedric wouldn't have recognised him had it not been for those awful bottle glasses of his and red uniform.

"Merlin," he breathes and bends down with a finger to feel if he was still breathing. He was.

_Thank you. _

Looping a lax arm over his shoulders Cedric staggers them inside the tomb's rank chamber. Figuring this was the closest to safe they'd get to being cut down by Death Eaters.

Two coffins were laid inside and he gently drops Harry against the closest one. Straightening, Cedric just now realises that the torches inside were already lit.

Away from the overwhelming chaos outside, Cedric recalls not seeing Pettigrew among the Death Eaters.

"_Crucio!_"

.

Cedric can't pinpoint when he died after that. Only in a blink he's waking up in his bed with a scream ghosting his lips and death cooling his heart.

_...Again?_

.

Dying and waking up for the third time had stripped away the layer of horror to reveal an inability to shake the feeling that this meant much more than what Dumbledore labelled as being _"an extraordinary magical phenomenon"._

Walking sedately this time through the Common Room, unease rolls his stomach.

"Good luck out there, Cedric!"

Cedric braces in alert at the shout, head snapping over to a group of first year students sitting near the fire, playing chess.

Expressions wide eyed.

Without any memory of it happening, Cedric had reflexively marked his wand on them.

"Sorry," he forces down the action.

Disgusted at himself.

Voice coming out cheerful he smiles a short, "Thank you!" and with quick strides rushes out the door towards Dumbledore's office. Having remembered the password Professor Sprout used yesterday's today.

This time he had dutifully remembered to wear his slippers, so instead of the cold slap against his feet it was a more unbalanced shuffle.

He still got the bewildered stare from morning people he meets in the hallways.

.

"Compromised? Are you certain you heard correctly, Mr Diggory?" Dumbledore's eyes are bright with an intensity that verges on cataclysmic.

For Mad Eye.

"The man shot a curse at me, Headmaster," Cedric gives a wan smile. "'m pretty certain."

Dumbledore goes silent. Thoughts visibly swirling before getting up and pacing.

"This confirms a suspicion I've had for some time now, thank you Mr Diggory for confirming it for me. I'm sure I've already warned you about the dangers of changing anything until the Trial, yes? "

"You have, Professor."

"Then leave this matter to me, if you will," just as last time, Cedric watches in awe as Dumbledore produces the map to the maze. He hands it over and Cedric quickly pockets it. "Mr Diggory, I must tell you to not give way to your suspicions about the individual portraying themselves as Professor Moody. The all-seeing-eye can pick up the most minute of details in a person's body language and alert the user to their intentions. Stay mindful of yourself, my boy."

_Joy._

Still, he can't help but ask.

Feeling tugged and pulled at odd angles, Cedric's mind has begun stumbling over itself trying to organize the series of events.

"So…Professor Moody isn't _actually_ Professor Moody… He's an imposter?"

Dumbledore nods.

For the entire year a Death Eater's been assigning him homework.

"…Blimey."

"Certainly," the old man concurs. "It's a startling truth."

Startling isn't exactly the word he'd use.

It's a bloody bad joke.

Dumbledore smiles in assurance, "Try not to think about it too much, my boy. You'll only run yourself haggard in useless worries. For now do as done as before." He indicates with a hand for Cedric to let himself out, but Cedric had still something on his mind to ask.

"Professor," he says. Dry swallowing. "How am I still alive?"

The question sobers Dumbledore even more so than the moment he had walked into his office and started regaling him on this sod awful story.

"My boy, I can only give you my suspicions. Of which I'm certain you've already heard."

"But Professor, it's different," he presses. "This is the third time. Too much to be a mere coincidence, it's got to…me dying over and over again must _mean something_."

It's got to.

"I've never once claimed to understand magic," Dumbledore says, looking at Cedric as though staring right through him. "But perhaps, you are right. And if so," he begins thinking aloud, "this grander meaning could be sending a message of war ahead of time. You are here to stop Voldemort from reaching full power. To save millions."

Magic must really not like You Know Who.

He says as much and Dumbledore can only shrug.

"Who knows?"

.


	4. Four

_Whew this one took a while. _

_Hope you all enjoy :D_

.

The afternoon spent with his parents goes the same way it had done previously. Strolling through Hogwarts grounds and talking about the past they'd give anything to relive. Cedric wants to tell them it's really not all it's cracked up to be.

At lunch Cho tries to sneak him away, _knowing_ something wasn't right but this time Cedric shines his best smile. Promising his odd behaviour was simply nerves.

She takes it with a grain of salt and refuses to let go of his hand until the Trial begins and Bagman whisks him off to meet his Fate.

Shouts, cheers, music, Harry noticing the absence of Dumbledore – "Huh, how odd" – and finally the whistle.

Cedric bolts into murky darkness, _Lumos_ lighting the way. He quickly parts from Harry, comforted in the knowledge of Snape shadowing him from the sidelines.

Map out, Cedric runs.

If in some terrible way 'Moody' exposes Snape, Cedric wasn't about to risk Harry's life and the rest of magical Britain for a third time round. All because he's afraid to die.

Something which, upon serious reflection, isn't at all likely to stick.

Fleur screams and Cedric stuns Viktor before the guy can even think of happily torturing him.

He arrives at the Cup breathless and unharmed. Both 'Moody' and Snape are noticeably absent.

Just as last, there are no introductions or pleasantries shared before crowding around the gleaming Cup.

"All good? Right then…"

.

Flashes of colour - _pain so much pain_ \- and Cedric rolls out of bed clutching his sides as though he had been slashed in half and was desperately trying to hold himself together. White fire spreads all up his spine and stains his insides like spilt gasoline for a mere handful of seconds before stopping altogether.

Like a fading cramp, Cedric lies of the floorboards. Cheek pressed against fresh polish and feeling cool bubbles of relief rippling through his muscles.

"Cedric?"

He glances up through his dark fringe to see Thomas sitting up in his bed and staring down at him in slight worry. Guiltily, Cedric realises he must have woken him up.

"Mornin'," he greets, "Don't reckon you could just forget this ever happened?"

"Not likely mate," his friend yawns, hand scrubbing his buzz cut. "You looked like you were having a seizure or somethin'. Should I get Professor Sprout?"

"No worries, Wizards don't get those," Cedric dismisses and proceeds to unenthusiastically pick himself up. Lower half tingling uncomfortably at the fragments of memory.

Seeing his insides falling outside.

So that was what Snape protected him from last time. A cutting hex.

"Woah mate," Thomas goes to stop him as Cedric's vision swirls. Hands out. "I don't think you should be standing just now. That didn't look too good – "

"No offence, Tom," Cedric is unable to constrain a hiss of frustration. "But I really don't need your concern right now."

Thomas's face shuts downs, "No need to be such a bastard, Ced. I'm only trying to help."

Taking a breath, Cedric glances out the window to see sunrise. Time was counting down.

…would apologising even matter if he dies again? Thomas won't remember it.

He does anyways.

.

Again, Dumbledore hands him a map.

Then tells him they were going to let Harry get kidnapped.

_Hel-lo?_

"From your recounting of past attempts, the only time we have gotten close to saving Mr Potter from his Fate with Voldemort, is when 'Moody' to accompanied us."

"A lot of people also died," Cedric points out, wide-eyed. Burnt flesh damp under his nose. "Pettigrew _crucio'd _me."

_Don't_. Cedric tells his body as it starts trembling from phantom knives_. Think about something else. _

Sensing his trepidation Dumbledore's eagerness dims. "Before, Pettigrew managed to surprise you. He won't now, I trust?"

_Trust_.

There was a vast amount of distance growing between himself and Dumbledore because of that.

Cedric was a sensible enough bloke to know the man couldn't work miracles, despite popular belief. To think an individual was able to vanquish an onslaught of Death Eaters, keep casualties minimal, and save two teenage boys – one less essential than the other –was absurd.

Though to repeatedly toss him into a battlefield with abandon. Telling him, a kid who just finished his _NEWTS_ to take out two Death Eaters with a kill list – the horror he's seen these past couple of days, trapped in his own fear...

Cedric isn't sure he will ever be able to forgive him for it.

By the look of Dumbledore's unflinching stare, the man is ready to accept Cedric's disgust, his loathing if it will mean stopping a war.

And he hates how large a part of himself isn't able to fault him for that underlying logic.

"Mr Diggory," Dumbledore says, "I wish I could say I don't believe you. I wish I could say Voldemort died that night fourteen years ago. I wish I could save you the torture of repeatedly facing death because of this incompetent old fool. This burden I've placed on you, is not something a seventeen year old should have to carry on his own."

"Don't worry," Cedric assures. Sighing, "I'll do it, Headmaster,"

"I know you will, dear boy. Lady Hufflepuff should be proud to have you in her house."

.

Hand linked with Chos's under Hufflepuff table, he half-listens to his father loudly recalling his childhood to his housemates.

" – of course he never fell. But he damn well might have given the sheer terror he put his mother and I through!" His mother tuts at his father's language, who grunts dismissively and continues on with cheer. Clearly happy to be the one tooting Cedric's horn.

Cho snickers into his shoulder. "Your father's so cute."

Cedric doesn't hear her.

Head on fist, his lucid gaze sweeps across the Hall. Taking in carbon-copy play outs he's had to witness on repeat. It's amazing how quickly it lost its charm.

Predictably, his eyes find Harry. Seated at the Gryffindor table with the Weasley Clan.

Around the age of four, sometime after the War and hunt for hiding Death Eaters, Cedric used to get dragged along by his mother to visit the Weasleys. Being apart of only a handful of wizarding families in the muggle village, his and the Weasley parents were disturbingly eager to make friends.

Post war joy and trust in neighbours was abundant.

In these dates, Cedric was all too happy to meet children around his age with magic. Most notably Charlie and Bill. (Even as a kid Percy found books more compelling than friends.)

The two boys, though older than him, found his excitement to climb things taller than himself a fun, dangerous game to risk.

Cedric doesn't know exactly when this friendship between them waned and lost itself to time, only when Charlie followed Bill to Hogwarts the letters died down to three a week, twice a week, once a week.

Then none.

Without either boy noticing or caring.

He hasn't spoken to the two since, only in sporadic awkward passing.

.

His eyes connect across the hall to Bill's, and Cedric finds himself momentarily stuck. The man's eyes were creased in mid-laughter, staring at him with a happiness and fondness Cedric couldn't bring himself to mimic.

He had heard of Bill's achievements. Landing a wealthy job for Gringotts as a Curse Breaker in Egypt. It looked to have worked out well for him. Before his first death, Cedric had noticed his old friend wearing expensive dragon skinned clothing. And that tooth, from its opal-like tint in candlelight - recalling from Charlie's old books, belonged to a rare breed of dragon only found in Egypt.

He was happy for him.

He found a life worth pursuing.

For a bizarre moment, Cedric smiles back at Bill. Sad and sincere.

Bill's carefree expression drops into a confused frown.

Cedric looks away.

Time moves.

.

On their way to the Quidditch pitch, Harry predictably falls into step besides him.

"Bill was asking about you."

He spoke.

Cedric blinks at the incomprehensible words. From his peripheral vision he could see Bagman close his mouth.

It was a pleasant change.

Not something Dumbledore would advise.

For a long second, Cedric considers not saying anything in case of causing something disastrous.

Then realises than not saying anything was equally as bad as the other.

Resigning himself, Cedric goes, "Oh?" Eyeing Harry's curious look. Despite himself, Cedric empathised. "What did he say?"

"Just," Harry shrugs, not quite sure himself. "How you've been? I told him he should be asking you that but he refused. I didn't know you two knew each other, did something happen?"

Cedric had suspected it before, but Harry seriously lacked tact.

"No," he shakes his head. Not wanting to think about the envy he felt as a first year watching Charlie laugh with his friends, Bill not respond to his owls - or how he was about to let 'Moody' kidnap Harry.

_Bloody-_

"Nothing," he says with forced casualness, "we just naturally lost touch as we grew up."

"You were childhood mates?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Well," he snorts, "We do live a couple blocks from each other, Harry. 'Course we would."

"Funny, I never thought of it like that," Harry admits. Slightly stunned.

Visibly, Cedric could see something else come to mind.

"Oh! Then you must have known Ron as a kid!"

They talk all the way to the maze – "Oh, that's weird Dumbledore isn't here" "Yeah, odd." –eventually having to shut up so Bagman could deliver his speech.

.

On the whistle Cedric shoots off. Brain filtering out the guilt of leaving Harry as a soft target and focusing on stunning Krum's attack when the boy appears.

"Sorry," he winces when Krum drops in a faint. Sparing no time, Cedric vigorously continues following the map.

Dumbledore is there, as is Snape and the others. 'Moody' appears. Identity must have been kept a secret as Cedric notices nobody else tensing.

He touches the cup, 'Moody' _accio's_ Harry and off they go.

.

This time Cedric drops on instinct when the hidden Death Eaters unleash their unmerciful attack.

Snape is on him in an instant. Hauling him up and shoving him to safety.

"Run you silly boy!"

"Thank you!" Cedric surprises the man. Ducking behind the angel headstone for cover.

Fate wasn't so kind.

The blast to the angel's wing catches Cedric on the bicep, punching him forwards and sending him tumbling on top another ancient gravestone. His ribcage feels the blow before it connects, forcing air out of his lungs in a painful choke and wet gasp.

Behind him the woman screams as she catches on fire.

He blinks spots from his eyes.

Dumbledore shouts.

Cedric has a second to filter in the meaning of what was happening before launching himself over the tombstone. Feet leaving the ground in a tumbling ark and landing him smack on his back. Breathless.

White, hot pain assaults his rib cage and bicep. Sending a trail of searing agony all the way to the back of his neck.

His cry is lost in the resonant _boom_ of Dumbledore's fire engulfing the air around him. Scorching wet grass and earth in its wrath.

Among it, he smells the burning flesh of Death Eaters and Dumbledore's friend.

_I warned him_, Cedric thinks, _and he still let it happen_.

_**I** let it happen._

The fire calls back slightly, enough for Cedric to gingerly untangle himself and briefly check the gash on his right bicep. His entire sleeve was ripped open enough for him to see and feel blood dribbling down his arm. It both looked and felt bad. He couldn't move it properly.

He couldn't fight 'Moody' like last time.

For a short second, Cedric wonders if he should die.

"…No," he spits. Left hand palming his wand with childlike awkwardness.

He won't die. Not again.

_Not bloody again._

Spotting 'Moody' limping towards the tomb not some meters away, dragging Harry behind him, Cedric ignores sudden exhaustion beating his skull and launches himself upright. Sprinting forwards.

"_Stupefy!"_

The man twists and blocks it, shouting a curse back that has Cedric side stepping and almost tripping over his feet.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Green light brushes past his temple but he barely notices it in the accumulating spots overtaking his vision.

Noticing the distance closing between them, Cedric braces himself.

And bowls into 'Moody's' legs.

The reunion is short lived in a jerking stunner.

Wasn't over yet.

Wand aimed at the tomb's door, Cedric takes time to catch his breath in quick painful gasps. Right arm limp at his side, he staggers up and wonders what the hell he's supposed to do now.

Backing towards Harry, he spares a check at the rise and fall of his chest, catches the cinders and crashes of spells a few yards to his left….

And wonders _what the hell I'm supposed to do now?!_

Waiting for Pettigrew out in the open wasn't the answer.

Forcing down his wand arm and pocketing it, he grabs Harry by the collar and starts dragging the boy. Stumbling backwards in a furious haste to get them as far away from danger he could.

Which was a laugh.

Thankfully Harry was light as he looked and within a few seconds of striding through darkness, banging against headstones and tearing up from the strain of his ribs - the firefight between Dumbledore and Death Eaters a dozen yards away looked to be nearing its end.

Silhouetted against burning grass, a hunched hooded figure steps out behind the tomb. Cedric's breath catches and he squats next to a smaller gravestone. Hand leaving Harry's collar for his wand.

The figure cats a _Lumos_. Lighting his face in grotesque shadows that send chills down his spine. In his arms was a bundled creature that looked like a small baby. For his sanity, he hoped it wasn't. Pettigrew scowls into the cemetery. Resembling an animal sniffing for prey.

This was the man that had killed him twice already.

Another roar of fire below sends the air scorching in blazing firelight like fireworks. In a second the darkness that had camouflaged him and Harry disperses. With Pettigrew's back turned to Dumbledore, Cedric scrounges up his last bits of energy to grab Harry and apparite them back to the Cup.

Two months ago on his seventeenth birthday, Cedric signed up for the Ministry of Magic Apparition lesson. He splinched himself twice, landed five miles out of the designated area. Scaring the soul out of a poor elderly muggle passing by - and was strictly advised to not engage in side-along apparition until future lessons. The woman teaching him warned that if he did, not only will he scatter his friend's remains all across bloody England, he would turn himself into scrabble. Whatever Morgana that is.

_Honestly._

Cedric would rather risk saving Harry than being a sitting duck waiting for poaching.

Damned if he gives up now.

Navel pinching inwards he is sent spiralling. Ribs burning on impact and head a centimetre from a black snake skinned dress shoe. Eyes deliriously swinging upwards, neon curses gleam off a silver skull mask.

"_Diggory_," the voice behind it hisses and a wand is aimed in-between his eyes. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Rolling onto Harry and catching sight of the Cup kicked a foot away, he laughs in relief.

"You idiot!" He hears Snape shout somewhere but he's already moving. Eyes splotching in a mirage of colour from either curses or fatigue, Cedric reaches out with his mangled arm to the cup, the other hugging Harry tight and they're gone.


	5. Five

_Consequences of Time Loops..._

_[and don't worry, as you might gather this occurs when Cedric dies. When he dies next who knows]_

.

For the first day, Cedric hugs darkness like an old friend. Dreams floating in and out of his subconscious. Undisturbed. Peaceful. He knew he was in a bed, safe and free from outside horrors that had tormented him for the past four days.

So he sank into the absent state of mind. Content.

Sadly, Cedric knew he had to wake up.

On the second day, he is shaken awake by a violent nightmare. Hot and damp from sweat, he lifts himself up in lassitude. Limbs heavy and mouth dry. All over his body ached as though he had been beaten.

Moving his head too-and-fro, scrubbing oily flops of brown hair, Cedric catches glimpse of afternoon sunlight shining through Hogwarts' mosaic windows built into the walls. Casting soft pinks, blues and yellows on his bed sheets and stone floors.

It didn't feel like reality - which Cedric damned well hoped it was.

Waking in the infirmary was something of an anticlimax after the all the hectic day(s) he's been through. The surrounding beds along with Madam Pomfrey's desk were unattended, and Cedric tried not to worry that Harry might have died when he wasn't looking.

_Merlin._

Beginning a rough self-examination, Cedric lightly pats his chest. Sore but not as painful as he remembered. Breathing no longer felt like he was a muggle compressed air balloon. Checking his arm he finds his entire right bicep bandaged to the Niles. With prodding fingers, the dull sting of magically knitted skin prickles angrily. He keeps prodding – then digs his nails in.

Hissing, Cedric closed his eyes against the prickling of tears.

This was it. This really was reality. Despite a mere minute or so ago he had hoped – but –

Time had continued.

"Bugger me," Cedric collapses back, "_finally_."

.

When Madam Pomfrey returns she rushes at him with horrible tasting potions that make him quiver in disgust.

"How's Harry?"

"Perfectly healthy," Pomfrey answers sweetly. "I imagine he's currently spending time elsewhere with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. Hiding from the Ministry I hope." At his query gaze she sighs and seats herself down on the bedside chair. Cedric straightens in alarm.

After Cedric had buggered off with Harry back to Hogwarts, everybody had simply assumed he they been wounded in the maze. This barking mad notion was solely carried by the deeply obnoxious Bagman himself, who wanted nothing more that to celebrate Cedric's win and drink butterbeer with underage students.

Dumbledore emerging with dead Aurors and half-mauled professors persuaded that mentality exceptionally well. Taking everyone's considerable silence to promptly explain that they had just fought off a slew of Death Eaters working for the still-kicking Voldemort.

Minister Fudge had kittens and practically levitated with anger when he heard of this and sent Aurors down to investigate at once. Despite Dumbledore's strong heed of Voldemort's involvement, the men and women under Fudge's thumb dutifully kept it out of reports and told Dumbledore that if he carried on like this they were required by law (Fudge) to happily tell him to fuck off.

In the politest way possible, of course. It was still Dumbledore they were talking to.

"After hearing you're awake," Pomfrey warns, ruffled. "Those ignorant little pests will take down your witness report."

"Witness report?" he repeats, sweating slightly.

"Yes."

Cedric looks nervously up at the ceiling, unable to think of any possible outcomes where his retelling of the magical time loop won't end with him in St Mungo's.

"Witness report?"

"Don't worry dear," she pats his hand. "Just tell them what you saw. Very straight forward Aurors are."

"That's nice. Could I speak to the Headmaster, please?"

.

"Don't mention it," Dumbledore cheerily advises. "Minister Fudge has an incredibly violent aversion to things he does not understand. I fear the truth will only bring you harm."

Gritting his teeth, Cedric rubs his forehead. Irritated at once again being rendered helpless by the situation.

"What should I say, then?"

Seated on the edge of Cedric's bed, Dumbledore mimics Pomfrey by patting his leg in assurance. "Simply spin them the tale of a teenager getting caught up in Barty Crouch Jr.'s schemes with spiriting Harry away."

That was another shocker for Cedric. 'Moody's impersonator being revealed as Crouch's thought to be dead son - _now_ dead son after getting _Kissed_ by a Dementor just yesterday.

There's a long, contemplating pause. "So," he wets his lips, "I'm the knight in shining armour in all this? Spotting Crouch Jr. kidnapping Harry and rescuing him."

Dumbledore nods, smiling with an intensity. "After sending an SOS spark into the sky that Professor Snape catches, yes."

Cedric isn't surprised Dumbledore had already plotted a cover story, or was forcing it onto him with no alternative.

"But I…" Shame had found him again and was gripping his heart. "I let Crouch hurt Harry," he confesses, enunciating each word like a judge at a trial. "I let your friends walk to their deaths knowing beforehand that they were going to die and did nothing. I just _watched it happen_. Used your friend's tortured screams as a _cue_ to get to safety." He didn't deserve the praise that will come from telling a convenient lie. "I don't think I can do it, Headmaster."

"You can," Dumbledore says. Smile unflickering. "And you shall."

How he loathes the man he once admired.

"Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore pats his leg again. "Put these days behind you, Mr Diggory. Forget it all. You will gain nothing to dwell on past misdeeds." He speaks as though Cedric had broken a school rule or something. Hands curling into fists, the screams of the dead echo behind him like a roar.

"And what of You-Know-Who?"

Silent for a second, Dumbledore says, "Gone. Pettigrew apparited out before Professor Snape or I could follow. We have merely delayed the inevitable. Still, something worth celebrating. Without your help, I shudder at what could have been."

"So he's still out there, then?" Cedric checks. "He'll come back?"

"Dear boy…"

"No, Headmaster," the tension in his eyes meet Dumbledore's. "If you want me to stay silent about the men and women I allowed die, then at least do me the courtesy of repenting."

"You wish to remember?" Dumbledore asks. Careful.

"I want to join your…" Cedric gestures lamely, "group thing to stop You-Know-Who."

To recompense for every way he had helped murder innocent people.

"Mr Diggory," Dumbledore says heavily. "You must know their deaths are not on your hands. You did not aim the wand that cursed them out."

"Sorry sir," he says evenly, "but it's pretty late to say that."

"On the contrary," Dumbledore pins him a look of profound solidarity. "It is never too late to help. And I know for a certainty that the brilliant men and women who were taken from us that night would not want a kind young man like yourself to feel responsible for it. They died knowing there was a chance they would not make it out alive, do not feel compelled to burden your conscience with unnecessary amounts of guilt that under no circumstance you should feel solely responsible for. Cast your mind back, Mr Diggory, to who it was that told you to allow Harry be kidnapped?"

At the sudden turn, Cedric stares in disbelief, "Sir? You…"

"Though I may smile benevolently, dear boy, I don't claim to be a saint," the old man makes to stand. Staring him down with a cheery smile, "After graduation, the Order of the Pheonix would love to have you. Until then," he pats his shoulder, "enjoy the life our comrades could not."

.

A handful of minutes after Dumbledore leaves (promising that given the way time has continued, Magic seemed satisfied with way things had turned out) two Auror's come to interview him.

He had completely forgotten about guardian supervision.

Whatever dignity Cedric wanted to show in front of Aurors fell apart at the sight of them. Concern, bewilderment and joy burn his parents as they dash over.

On a second look, Cedric notices there was also a gaunt light to them that wasn't there before. Underlying fear of their worst nightmare coming to life.

"Cedric," his mother swoops over in urgency. Landing gracelessly on his bed and pulling him in for a trembling hug that has him tensing for a second. Over her shoulder Cedric watches as his father's compressed look of worry turns into exhausted relief. "You're okay, aren't you dear?"

He shrugs, "Could be a lot worse, honestly."

"Let's not think about that right now Ced," his father places a hand on his shoulder, patting him with a shut down look of grief. "Let's just focus on you getting better. Hmm?"

Releasing, his mother holds him at arms length to get a better look. He must have appeared worse than he thought because her eyes brim with tears and she starts smoothing back his messy bangs. "My dear boy," she says, voice thick, "what did they do to you?"

At the foot of his bed a middle-aged woman coughs. Drawing attention to her and her scruffy-looking partner, she smiles. Drawling, "While this is all very nice, the Ministry wants full appraisal of Mr Diggory's witness statement. So if you could put off this little reunion of yours until this is over, I promise we'll be out of your hair in a jiffy."

Cedric catches a glimpse of his father's sneer before it slides back. His father wasn't one to openly disrespect people that had a higher standing than his. Especially when they're the sort who could hush his murder up.

With his mother's hand stubbornly holding his, Cedric tells them exactly what he was told to - and is not asked again.

He suspects they knew he was lying to an unrelenting degree, but as Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore had said – they were not allowed to consider Voldemort's involvement. So just as promised, the interview lasts barely a half hour with minimal questions other than the basics of what had 'happened'.

It was incredibly suspicious, but then Cedric was starting to wake up to the idea that people who he was told to trust at a young age are the very people he should always second-guess.

"Just one more thing, you will have to pay a fine for illegal side-along apparition."

Cedric stares. "You're having me on."

Admittedly, she herself couldn't help but wince. "Law's the Law, Mr. Diggory. Of course, taking into the hard-pressed circumstances..."

"_Hard-pressed_," his father mumbles. Thinking he was being quiet.

She rallies on as if she hadn't heard a thing, "The Ministry will reduce it by a fraction, but we cannot look the other way when a witch or wizard apparites without a licence. Can't have it look as if we were playing favorites just because he happened to save the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Would have been the Boy-Who-Lived-Then-_Oops_ if it hadn't been for my boy," his father continues to mutter grumpily.

She smiles winningly at them, "Just head on over the Ministry within the next month to fill out the paperwork and all will be well. I wish you a speedy recovery, young man," over her shoulder she calls, "Come on, Hills."

Just before disappearing behind the door, Hills glances back at him with a creased smile. "What you did was incredibly brave. Beyond anything us Aurors would expect from a student. Fighting off Death Eaters to save a friend. Heh," Cedric fights down a grimace, "The Auror's will be looking for your name on their applicants list in the near future. We need more people like you in our ranks."

At those words his mother's grip turns painful.

.

His parents were resolute with wanting Cedric to go home with them. Alone, Cedric couldn't dissuade them. It only came with Dumbledore's assurances that he would be well taken care of that he had managed to persuade them against it. Truthfully, he felt safer in Hogwarts than a muggle village. Ancient layers of wards melded with new ones making it easier to settle his racing heart.

Voldemort knew who he was now. The random Hufflepuff bloke that stopped him from returning to full power.

Morgana's saggy tits he's managed to piss off a Dark Lord along with his battalion.

What a mess

.

On his way to Hufflepuff dormitory, he got a slight feeling that someone was following him. He was proven correct when halting suddenly in the hallway and feeling something heavy and solid collide against him.

Muffled cursing stops Cedric half-way in uttering a stunner. Wand still out, he watches in silent bemusement as Harry slips into thin air. Infamous invisibility cloak draping away.

"Hey," he greets, hand scratching the back of his neck at Cedric's intense stare. Last time he had seen him he was unconscious and covered in blood.

_No thanks to me._

"You're hurt," he reaches to get a better look at the bandage behind Harry's bangs. Peering down to eye it disapprovingly. Harry gapes. "You alright? Any lasting soreness? No concussion or dizziness – what are you even _doing_ here? It's past lunchtime you should still be resting. Honestly, Harry you were just kidnapped have a cuppa and lie down … "

"Cedric," Harry grips his wrist to stop him from physically ripping off his band aid to judge the healing himself. Looking up at him in slight wariness, eyebrows raised he says, "I'm fine. Are _you_ though?" Tone adopting the suspicious sort his mother had just delivered a couple minutes ago.

He was, Cedric realises, balancing on a knife's edge between friendly and creepy. Pulling back and coughing, he twitches a smile.

"Dandy," he assures. Oh boy. "How has the last day been, then?"

Not looking very convinced, Harry humours him nevertheless. "Truthfully, it's been mad. Dumbledore told everyone at breakfast before I woke up yesterday to not go attacking us with questions but…" he shrugs. Despondent he begins toeing the floor with little kicks. "Not that I could answer them. All I remember is Profess–_Crouch_ hitting me with a hex and bye bye Harry."

"Oh," Cedric says. "That's good."

Harry shoots him a look that says how much he appreciates his opinion on that matter before it changes into something destitute. "I hear you latched yourself onto Crouch before he could portkey back to Voldemort." Cedric flinches at the name and Harry pauses, grinning apologetically. "Sorry. I forget how people are about that."

"It's fine," he waves.

"In any case," Harry sighs, staring at him with absolute gratitude. "Thanks. You really saved me out there that day."

Cedric forces himself not to cringe. "No worries, mate."

"No, seriously."

"_Seriously_, you don't need to thank me," he grins with extraordinary tension. "Anyone would have done what…" _"Don't worry. I'll do it, Headmaster" _"What I did."

"Doubtful," Harry deadpans then eyes him persistently. "Are you sure you're okay, Cedric? You're looking a little," he swipes a hand over his face, "peaky."

"Overslept a day," he says in sorry excuse and finds himself fighting the urge to simultaneously retreat to Hufflepuff dormitory and fret over Harry. A section of his mind has appeared to develop strange thoughts about being responsible for the kid's health and wellbeing. Most likely a product from guilt after single-handedly dishing him out to a murderous Death Eater that hid an ex-Auror in a trunk for better half of a year.

"Uh huh," nods Harry. "By the way, Bill's still here. He asked me to ask you to meet him at the Astronomy Tower for a talk. Sounds pretty serious."

This takes Cedric by considerable surprise, "Bill?" he repeats. It suddenly occurs to him that he's been too caught up in lying to Aurors and in consequence the Minister of Britain. Then lying some more to his parents and digesting a whole swathe of information about Crouch Jr., Sirius Black, Pettigrew, Snape being ex-Death Eater and how Dumbledore _Obliviated_ everyone who knew about his time loop to even think about the guy. "Oh," he glances away then back again, "Bill?"

Harry visibly winces, "Are you absolutely certain you're doing okay?"

"Oh yeah," he says hopelessly, "Yeah."

"I think we should get you back to bed," Harry comes up and nudges him forwards by the back. "Traumatic experiences really of take it out of you."

"They really do, don't they?" Cedric nods agreeably. "But what about Bill?"

"I'll tell him to talk to you tomorrow at breakfast, or maybe tonight at dinner if you've…" he seems to think over his word choice, "come back to your senses."

Harry was a nice kid.

.


End file.
